


Turning Away from The Pain

by nebulaethereal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Potions Accident, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulaethereal/pseuds/nebulaethereal
Summary: Snowed in and working together to get rid of scars.





	Turning Away from The Pain

long as Hermione could remember, the smell of the forbidden forest reminded her of death. It may have been some of the things she had witnessed in the past few years, especially from this past year. She'd lost-- everyone had lost so many people. And there were still parts of Hogwarts that were marred with battle scars.

Today, though, there was a respite from the awful smell, and the awful memories, at least in a small way. Everything was frozen.

During her rounds this winter she had taken care to check the edges of the campus, using it as an excuse to admire the very grounding feelings of nature. While her fears and dread sometimes came out of nowhere, often in the form of traumatic memories, nature went on. When panic rose, Leaves fell. When her stomach dropped, the flowers blossomed. 

Now, as the remembered panic of war woke her in a sweat, the frigid winter froze her boiling mind.

Night was creeping in, and she decided it was time to head back. While her duties as Head girl were less limited, she felt obliged to set a good example.

Heading back, she could have sworn she saw someone watching her from the archways of the building.

She shook off the feeling and walked on back toward her room.

\-----

From the archways, it was easy to see Hermione's cloaked form standing on the edge of the forest. He wasn't sure what he was watching for-- he really just wanted her to leave soon so that he could find some time alone.

Draco was tugging on the scarf of his attire, having packed on the layers of clothing in hopes of keeping out the cold that the forbidden forest brought. The comfort that it brought.

Time drawled on, and she just stood there, staring out at the forest. He sighed, checking the time and growing ever more impatient. He had half a mind to barge out there and past her to his sanctuary, but knew better of it. The meddlesome know-it-all would just follow him and ruin any sense of comfort he sought.

Finally, he noticed her coming his way, and ducked around the corner into hiding behind a statue.

Once she'd passed, glancing around in search of something, he waited until she was out of sight up a stairway before walking out to the forest. He hoped that the loud crunching didn't give him away. While he wasn't too concerned with following rules, he was quite tired of people butting into his business.

He walked on, unaware of the sly witch watching him from a window one floor up. She didn't make a move, though, merely stood there as he saw him walk toward the sunset.

At the edge of the forest, he stopped, cast a charm, and ducked into the forest, obscured by the treeline. 

\-------------------------

Hermione watched him, knowing full-well that he was avoiding someone following him. She squinted, noticing him making a bee-line to the forest, until he disappeared beyond the trees.

With a glance at the sky, she could tell that night was rushing on. With a glance at the time, she made a decision.

Since they were two of ten students staying at the castle over the solstice break, it was unlikely that anyone else would be joining him. Additionally, if he got into trouble with one of the devious creatures in the forest, there were very few teachers around to hear him, much less save him.

So, ever the hero, she went after him, to save him from himself, most likely.

Once she arrived at the edge of the forest, she looked down to where his footprints trailed on, and followed. By the time she was a few feet into the forest, the only light around was the reflection of the moonlight against the couple of feet of snow.

\------------------

Draco had arrived at his make-shift sanctuary. Beneath a large sheet of rock, there was a space of about ten square feet, protected from the naked eye, and the elements.

It was there that he had set up camp.

His tent was disguised as a mossy rock, pinned beneath the precipice. Upon entering, though, he had everything he needed.

\---------------

Hermione was following his footsteps, deep indentations in the snow. Her wand perpetually at the ready  


He hadn't traveled too deeply into the woods, but just deep enough that she nearly heard the howls of unknown creatures about outside. As she walked deeper, the snow fell harder.

For fear of forming clumps of snow in her hair, she tugged her hood over her head.

Trudging on, she lost his footsteps. With a squint, she was noticing that the snow was already covering them. Upon closer inspection, though, she discovered them once again. To her surprise, they stopped only a few feet ahead.

They ended at a rock.

She took care to circle the rock. Then, she climbed it-- slipping a bit here and there before giving up. He wasn't intop of the rock, nor was he hidden by some kind of charm. Coming back to where the footprints stopped, she looked straight at the rock, and pressed her hand against the surface.

It wasn't rock-like at all. In fact, it gave way to her pressing, until she was certain that this was some of her adored 'bigger-on-the-inside' magic.

Oddly elated, she entered the tent just in time for the snow to begin falling in a thick frenzy.

\------------------

Inside of his sanctuary, there was plenty of space for a number of things. But, in their place, she saw no furniture-- no appliances-- no creature comforts. Instead, before her, she saw a large ornate rug on the floor, encircled by candles, tomes, and herbs. Incense burned nearby in several places, something mixed with frankincense. Something she couldn't place.

Her silent entry gave her the upper hand, and although she wanted to call out for him, it dawned upon her that, perhaps he wasn't here.

Perhaps he was never here.

The sound that came next was enough to make her leap from her skin.

\---------------------

Draco was intent on procuring the needed supplies for tonight. He was just around the corner, past a wall, and tinkering with the alchemy table. In his sanctuary, there was a lovely warmth which he had charmed in the place. He tugged off all of the winter wear he had on, leaving him rather vulnerable in his button-down silk shirt and dark green dress slacks; tucked into his boots still.

While he was working, he didn't notice the little nagging sensation that he was no longer along, not until he dropped a vial. That was not much concern, he had plenty of those. But after it shattered, he heard a gasp which was not his own.

\-------------------

Her wand brandished, she stood her ground, feeling behind her for the opening to the tent. Her gasp had felt as if it echoed in such a silent tent.

This whole thing was stupid of her. Any moment now a dark wizard would step out-- or a magical creature-- and end her, then and there.

And suddenly, they stepped out:

"EXPELLIARMUS!" She choked out at the very same time they screamed in her direction.

Draco rounded the corner to see a hooded figure, wand pointed his way, just in time to shout a "STUPEFY" toward her.

As his spell hit, so did hers, and his wand flew a few feet away.

The hooded figure was stupefied, though, and this allowed him the chance to step forward quickly and unmask the intruder.

A few feet from her, her face still obscured by the hood, she could only just see the slim form of none other than Draco stepping her way.

With a rather painful tug that brought her hair with it, he jerked her hood back, wand quickly pressing against her throat.

"Granger?! Really?!" He shouted, totally dumbfounded.

"What in the bloody hell are YOU doing, following me?" He sneered, not letting go of the spell, nor her hood and hair.

Not even the stupefy could keep her from making a pained expression .

Realizing she couldn't reply while under the spell, he released it-- to which she immediately grabbed his wrist to wrench her hair from it.

"OW! DRACO! LET GO!" She howled immediately, wincing as his slender fingers were tangled in her messy, frosty hair.

He jerked his hand away, taking a few too-many strands of hair with it, albeit unintentionally. "Christ, Granger, make your hair release me!"

As she rubbed her head, grumbling, he peeled the damp strands of hair from his rings and fingers, making retching sounds.

Finally free of one another, they looked at the other, both glaring.

"What are you doing..." She asked.

"What are you doing here..." He asked at the same time.

They stared. He crossed his arms, licking his teeth behind his lips in distaste. She pushed her hair out of her face to really mean-mug him, jutting her jaw out in his direction.

"Well I came to see that you weren't killed by some number of beasts out here." She insisted.

"Ah--hah! Good one, Granger, but I'm pretty sure that you're the only likely to be killed." He chuckled, a smug look on his cool features.

"I think you and I both know that I'm not going to fold under your hollow threats, and besides, I'm not lying, you could get hurt out here." She implored.

He studied her, his face falling a bit when she suggested he was threatening her. His arms uncrossed, guard dropping slightly. "Well, I'm fine, so you can leave."

Silence, and he saw her meddlesome gaze fall to the ritualistic set up behind him. He put his body between her and the mat, obscuring her from seeing it. "Now, Granger. Leave!" He insisted, stepping toward her.

"But what are you doing?" She attempted to step past him, "It looks like some old magic.. .are those... crystals? Are you--"

He scoffed, stepping closer to urge her out of the tent. "You don't know what you're talking about, I'm... Just here for some time away from it all." He insisted.

She was nearly pinned against the doorflap of the tent, and stumbled backward falling through the flap and into a huge pile of snow with a shout. Halfway in and halfway out of the snow, feet in the warmth, head in the cold, she attempted to right herself, writhing in the dense white stuffs.

He laughed, hands on his hips as he watched her struggle. He had to admit, though, it was certainly coming down. Nearly a foot and a half had fallen since he had arrived, coming more than halfway up the flap of the tent.

"Help me up! Malfoy!" She shouted, genuinely unable to wrench herself from the snow, and reaching her hand out for him.

He crossed his arms. "Why should I? It's not my fault you came all the way out here and got trapped in the snow." He noticed how comical it was to see her shape in the snow-- something of a cartoon.

"Draco, please!" She implored, making a messy snow angel, more snow falling over her face in a slowly-thickening sheet. Her booted and stockinged feet kicked in the tent, catching his shin.

He winced, and then gave in, finally reaching forward and lifting her out of the snow by the hand.

With a gasp, she fell toward him, into the tent, and nearly covered in snow from the waist-up.

Her hair was immediately drenched, along with her cloak and clothes, as the warmth of the tent melted the snow stuck to her.

She looked herself over in anger, then up at him. He chuckled, and darted away from her pointing finger to look outside. "It's really a blizzard out there, isn't it-- perfect." He noted.

"You don't expect me to walk all the way back in this weather!" She swatted his arm with wet mittens, leaving part of his silk shirt soaked.

He grimaced, looking her way and nodding. "Yes, I do. Now, if you would kindly..." He opened the flap for her, bowing sarcastically.

"I... can't believe you! No... wait, I can. Well, I don't care what you insist-- I'm not leaving until the snow dies down. I could freeze to death!" She insisted, stepping deeper into the tent and taking off her cloak.

He ran his hand down his face, groaning and closing the flap with resignation. "Fine, but if you're going to be here, you have to help me."

She seemed dumbfounded as he walked past her, into the room he came out of.

She took time to peel off her soaked cloak. Beneath was a less drenched sweater that she debated keeping on. With a shiver-- she decided against it, and removed it as well, throwing it over a pole to dry.

She was much less wet and shivery in her casual black skirt, tights, and long-sleeved black and green striped shirt. It was initially a thermal, since it hugged the form, but for the time being, it was a shirt.

She followed after him, curiosity mixing with elation. "What am I helping with?"

"You're going to help me get rid of this." He rolled his sleeve up, exposing what was left of the dark mark, now more of an angry brand than a tattoo.

She gasped, hand coming to her mouth. She hadn't seen what was left of it since the war was over and he was tried and freed of charges.

She hadn't even thought about what happened to dark marks when the dark lord was no more.

"Right, well... don't gasp too hard, I don't want you passing out." He glared, tempted to cover the mark again.

"I'm sorry, I just..." She was at a loss for words.

"Anyway-- I've tried everything. It seems that the dark magic involved in the bond is hard to break, which means that I'd have to cut my arm off to be rid of it. That is-- until I learned about this book," He indicated an ancient book, full of old magic, and positively radiating with it.

She came to inspect it, poring over it as if it were a fine wine. "What's the cure...?" She asked, leafing through the page for his kind of case. Sadly, the language was unknown to her.

"Apparently, through astral projection and a potion I'm currently creating, I can knock myself out deeply enough for the potion to work." He spoke, seemingly uncertain.

"Why do you need to astral project?" She asked.

"Apparently the pain is quite... intense. The body rejects the process and purges the potion, and... well some parts of the book mention people trying to end themselves during the process, so... projection allows for a detachment from the body." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, glancing back at the potions.

"Wow, okay..." She nodded, trying to make sense of the symbols before her.

"And all of the crystals and incense and candles...?" She asked, raising a brow.

"Ah, well... I find them comforting, I guess." He rubbed the back of his head, scoffing at himself.

"Well, where do we start?" She asked, surprising him by stepping next to him at the potions table.

“I… guess we’re going to do this, then.” He muttered, coming to stand next to her, and beginning to give her a rundown of the recipe.

His eyes wandered her wet hair, pulled back into a messy, wet bun over her shoulder.

Her eyes, meanwhile, watched his hands sift through papers to explain the situation.

They glanced at each other, and a sense of apprehension snapped. They knew it would be a long night.


End file.
